


Happy New Year

by Maracuya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Casterly Rock, F/M, King's Landing, Lannisport, Loss of Virginity, Older Man/Younger Woman, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-10-03 16:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/pseuds/Maracuya
Summary: It's the turn of the year and Sansa isn't happy at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I keep saying I don't like modern AUs? Well, it's true. I guess I must blame the turn of the year for this fic then...  
> I'm not planning to make it very long. And it'll be a bit more on the darkish side in comparison to my other fics, I'd say. We'll see how it goes. The rating may go up in the future, not quite sure yet.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not making any money with this, and all the credits go to GRRM.

Most of the fireworks had died down. However, Sansa was still standing at the rooftop railing of Maegor's Tower, swirling around the prosecco in her glass until it was growing stale, and looking down at the street canyons that were King's Landing. Her mind was empty, like the rooftop. No wonder, given the chill air and grey, cloudy sky. The others had already retreated to the penthouse bar to continue their merry feast.

 

“Happy New Year,” Sansa whispered to herself, not feeling the words.

Ever since her parents had died, the Baratheon-Lannister-Clan in the capital had been their legal guardians – and ever since Robert Baratheon had passed away shortly afterwards, what had already been a deplorable situation had turned into horror.

Granted, Sansa had recently come of age, but the people around her had made sure she would remain dependant – be it with regard to education and work, housing, or fiscal aspects.

 

At least, Sansa was more or less rid of Joffrey now. Just before midnight, the young man had ditched her at the party in favour of his new girl-friend, Margaery Tyrell. Still, Sansa wasn't so naïve as to believe that Cersei Lannister's eldest son wouldn't continue to hassle her at every turn.

 

For the umptieth time, Sansa wondered if it would have been better to run away like Arya had done after their parents' demise. Arya had still been so young, but from all Sansa knew, her little sister had somehow managed to flee the continent by ship. Ever since, Arya had disappeared from the face of the world; her mobile and Internet accounts being dead, too, so that the Lannisters couldn't find out her location in this way either.

Sansa wondered if her little sister was still alive. How she had experienced the turn of the year. Whether she was happier than herself.

 

Sansa gazed through the window panes of the rooftop railing and watched the blinking lights of the bars and ads, as well as the red rear lights of the cars flitting down the streets. A wet sheen of fine spray from the heavens added to the bleak sensation. Not for the first time, Sansa felt a strange yearning to get closer to the ground...

 

“No need to jump,” a sharp, masculine voice suddenly said behind her. “Not worth it. Just a nuisance for those who have to clean up the ugly armorphous mess on the pavement later. You can as well be dead on the inside while continuing to exist physically.”

 

Sansa spun around and noticed she wasn't quite as alone as she had thought. There was a dark silhouette sitting in an elegant outdoor chair in the rooftop pavillion.

“I'm sorry?” Sansa replied and stepped closer to the semi-darkness that had shielded her watcher from view so far.

The man said, “How about some more prosecco? It's alcohol-free, granted, but that way, my spawn won't come here to look for the bottle.”

“ _Tywin Lannister,”_ Sansa realised. She was alone with the patriarch of the Lannister Clan whom she'd only got to know personally in the evening before dinner. The chairperson of Lannister Industries... and the embodiment of the worst fire demon from the seven hells, if one was to believe Tyrion Lannister, the potentially least evil person of the whole family.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"I didn't notice I wasn't alone," Sansa said.

"Obviously," Lord Lannister answered.

Not knowing what else to say, Sansa emptied the rests of her stale prosecco onto the floor and held out her glass. Lord Lannister poured her a drink, and Sansa started to sip on it so she had a good reason to remain silent for a moment. She pondered the words the man in front of her had uttered earlier on.

 _"He knows what he's talking about,"_ she thought.

It struck her as odd, given what a cold and rich and successful man Lord Tywin was supposed to be. The mere concept of him understanding the tiniest whiff about her life was way out of anything she'd have ever anticipated. Nobody in her surroundings cared to understand anything about her. Oh, in his broken, warped ways, the Hound - Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's security man - had been different, but he had left the service of his employers after having been kicked too often. Ever since that day, nobody had looked behind Sansa's facade.

 _"Lord Tywin is perceptive. That's what makes him so dangerous. Just why is he so candid? It must be some sort of test... or a warning. I have to be even more careful,"_ she thought.

 

"The place up here - it opens the mind, doesn't it?" Sansa asked.

"If you think you need an opening," Lord Lannister retorted, causing Sansa to wince inwardly. Again, she didn't know what to say to that.

After a moment of them sipping alcohol-free prosecco, she offered, "I'm all grown up now. Tonight is a good moment to consider my future."

"Am suddenly I the one who should consider it since you don't want to leave the decision to my spawn?" Lord Lannister snapped.

Sansa blinked at the extreme bluntness of these words.

"What if I wanted to decide for myself?" she wanted to know, her voice thinner than she'd have liked it to be.

Lord Tywin waved his hand.

"Which choices do you have? A simple degree from home schooling, no studying, no money, no support, no network in your back... but the Lannister family being _invested_ in your fate... For one reason or another."

Sansa breathed in and out.

"You're not sharing your family's reasons?"

Lord Lannister just lifted an eyebrow.

"What do you want then, Sansa Stark? Which possibility do you deem realistic?"

 

To speak up for herself was difficult after years of heteronomy. The Lannisters had even used doctors in their favour who had declared her instable and who'd given her psychotropic drugs to keep her malleable.

What could she possibly say now? What would be an option the man in front of her would accept?

"I want to leave King's Landing. That's all. I could come to the West and work for your company in whatever position you find acceptable for me. I'm not picky."

 

Lord Tywin cocked his head and gazed at her for a moment.

"My grandson has been complaining on the social platforms for months. About you being... inhibited. About him not having taken your maidenhood yet for the simple reason that you must be too much of a bore in bed."

Sansa went cold to the bone. She had known that everyone was sneering at her and gossiping behind her back, but she'd never known the ugly details.

After a calculated pause, Lord Tywin asked, "Would you give me your virginity in exchange for a future in the West?"

 

Even without having drunk much alcohol, Sansa started to feel dizzy. And a bit sick.

"I'm not picky," she managed to utter with some difficulty. "But I'm not a whore. No matter my recent position - I'm still from an old, proud family. And I've got moral standards. I'm a lady."

Sansa expected a harsh reaction to her statement, but to her surprise, Lord Lannister bethought himself and nodded briefly as if he actually endorsed her attitude.

"What if I wasn't talking of prostitution but matrimony?"

Sansa's mouth opened, and she stared at Lord Lannister in an unladylike way. She needed a few seconds to get a grip on herself.

"What do you mean - matrimony? A wedding? To whom? - Oh, but I think it wouldn't really matter. At its base, it would still be the same concept like whoring - just in a more permanent form. A certain position in exchange for intimacies."

Lord Lannister's eyes glittered in the semi-darkness of the pavilion. He was still sitting in his chair and took another sip of prosecco. Strangely enough, nothing in his posture indicated growing anger beyond his default sour self. That caused Sansa's insecurity to grow even more. Had she just passed some sort of test?

 

After approximately a minute of silence, the Lannister patriarch spoke, "My brother Kevan works in my enterprise as well, as you may have heard. His personal secretary is pregnant. She could show you the ropes over the next months, and you could work for him for as long as she's at home with the baby. Would that suit you?"

Sansa's glass fell from her hand. There was the multifold _pling!_ of a hundred tiny shards.

"You mean what you're saying? Is this a real offer?" she croaked.

"I always mean what I'm saying. Since when am I known for a jester?" Lord Tywin snapped.

Sansa's knees started to shake, then buckled under her. Within a moment, she was hunched on the ground, wet glass shards piercing through the fabric of her dress. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she was pressing her face against Lord Lannister's lower thighs in sheer gratitude.

In between sobs that rattled her chest, she heard the man's voice.

"I've heard other people say that it's good to start the year with a selfless deed. I wonder what that would be like. After all, I mean to profit from your workforce."

 

Sansa lifted her head and rubbed  at her cheeks with her hand. She suddenly realised how close she'd come to this man. His overwhelming presence -  it felt... weird. She didn't find any better words for it.

And she had no clue about what drove her when she uttered in a shaking voice, "Maybe, I should show you more about this selfless deed thing then. In... in my room."


	3. Chapter 3

What in the name of - _WHAT_ was going on?

He had been off the tracks since his arrival in King's Landing in the late afternoon. Ever since he had entered the suite that had been arranged for him, to be precise. Ever since he had seen that photograph on the bedside table. Tywin wondered who was to blame. Cersei? Tyrion? Joffrey maybe? His pathetic, spoiled grandson lacked enough intelligence and harboured abundant sadism to have the copy of an old wedding photograph with Joanna arranged for Tywin just to spite a grandfather he barely knew.

The picture had turned to ash hours ago, but Tywin couldn't unsee what he had seen. What he had been so apt to block from his mind for years and years. Not that he had let the effect of it all show over dinner - he was too professional for that.

 

Anyway, Tywin now understood why he hadn't been in the capital for years - and why he should have been here regularly so as to cushion his offspring's worst fooleries. He had thought Robert Baratheon to be an oaf, and he had known his own children to be lacking... but THIS...

 

And now, he was here, sitting in the semi-darkness, together with this Northern waif his family had been ignorant enough not to use to their advantage some more. They'd just been content to suck away the girl's orphan's pension and to use her as a punching ball for their sadism, rather than to build on any other advantages she might offer. Tywin's ears were still ringing with Cersei's words on what an imbecile, utterly useless burden Sansa Stark was.

Yet, Tywin had only needed a few minutes - and some uncharacteristically addlebrained comments on his part - to find out that the young woman in front of him did have a certain potential. He didn't know the nature or the extent of this potential yet, but it was clear as daylight that it had to be possible to use her for _something_. For instance, she wasn't only a beauty; she possessed more grace in her little finger than Cersei in her whole body. And this despite Sansa wearing a dress that had been fashionable years before and that was already thin at the elbows. Probably one of Myrcella's old dresses.

 

Tywin gazed at the woman crying at his feet and felt the uncharacteristic need to run his fingers through her auburn tresses. What a weird mood he was in tonight. Since when did the turn of the year render him a weak, emotional fool?

And what should he do with Sansa's unexpected offer? It was inexplicable to tell what had suddenly driven her to change her mind. It couldn't be impromptu attraction. Gratefulness for his harmless job offer? That didn't sound enticing. Besides, it had been a long, tiresome day, and he didn't feel like fucking. Even less a virgin.

Just... What was worse... her words comprised an offer not to have to return to his suite for the night. BLEH. What a squalid thought!

 

"I've been a widower for decades, but I didn't realise I was coming across as needy," he spat.

Sansa Stark winced.

"I'm sorry," she hurried to say. "I wouldn't have hinted at... It was just because you asked earlier on..."

She faltered.

Tywin put a finger under her chin and forced it up. The semi-darkness made her blush nearly invisible, but he could detect embarrassment in her eyes.

"I'm not needy, but I'm greedy. There's a difference. And I'm not a man who rejects an offer, or who misses an opportunity. Go refresh yourself. I'll seek you out in your room later on."

Really, WHAT was he doing? Which madness was driving him tonight?

 

Tywin watched Sansa's eyes widen. She gave a hectic nod, muttered an "of course, my lord", and flitted away to carry out his order.

Alone, Tywin sipped the rest of his prosecco and pinched the bridge of his nose.

What truly upset him was that deep down, he wanted to see his family's faces when he'd emerge from Sansa's bedroom in the morning and tell them he'd whisk her away to the West. He who'd always kept his very rare whore visits discrete.

What a petty impulse. To agree to stay with a woman, just because... Tywin wasn't himself on this night.

 _"Must be the turn of the year,"_ he groused inwardly and rose.

He decided to check on the overall state of inebriation down in the bar.

 

As it turned out, it was just as bad as he had expected it to be. Cersei had already been properly drunk even before midnight, and her laughter had been too loud. Disgusting. Now, she was lieing on a sofa, her head resting on Jaime's lap, and she had fallen asleep and had started to snore. Jaime had dozed off as well, despite the blaring party music. Tommen had fallen asleep in an armchair - only he was likely the only one in the room who had done so without the influence of alcohol.

 

While holding a cigarette in one hand, Joffrey was snogging his new girlfriend, whose flowery perfume was so heavy it would give any sober man a headache. Tywin snatched the cigarette away and extinguished it in an ashtray.

"Hey, what'd'you think you're doin'?" Joffrey slurred.

Tywin uttered a growl.

"I don't care if you want to construct a highway in your lungs, what with all the tar you're inhaling; and I don't care if cancer will eat you up from the inside, or if you become impotent from all the smoking. My personal interest is to be able to sleep without you risking to set everything on fire."

Joffrey rolled up his eyes.

"You've gotta broomstick up y'r spine, d'you know that? What a bore!"

"If you think that reaching my age and my riches is a bore, go ahead ruin yourself - but not while I'm around!" Tywin shot back.

 

He turned away and made a few steps - only to see Tyrion and his crony Bronn raising their glasses at him from behind the table where they were sitting. They were half through a bottle of booze - a bottle that hadn't been there before midnight. The two men were so used to drinking that they were only listing and hadn't passed out yet.

Tyrion grinned at him in the typical way that caused Tywin to want to bash in the deformed face.

"Whoa, suddenly trying out education on your grandson? Might be a tad late."

"Maybe, I should have tried to educate you first," Tywin shot back. "Only in your case, it would have meant forlorn hope anyway."

Tyrion laughed.

"I'm glad you didn't educate me - at least not the way you'd have ment to. Imagine all the fun I'd have missed! All those lovely whores! All the wine! And strongwine! Naaaah, better off this way."

Tywin snorted.

"If the gods know anything, they'll let your cock rot away before the rest of you. Can't be long until you'll catch an illness," Tywin retorted and turned away.

 

_"And Sansa Stark has lived among these people for years. No wonder she'd do almost anything to get away from here."_

Tywin still wasn't keen on actually fucking her. To be honest, he was tired after this long day, simple as that. He just needed a better bed to sleep in than the one he'd have to occupy otherwise.

With those thoughts on his mind, he directed his steps to Sansa Stark's room.


	4. Chapter 4

The knock on the door caused Sansa to wince in bed, even if she had expected it. Quickly, she pulled up the blanket to her nose. The only light in the room came from the little lamp that stood on one of Robert Baratheon's old wooden wine boxes that now served as her bedside table.

Sansa wondered what would happen next. After all, Joffrey had forced her to watch enough porn movies to know lots of variants she already knew she wouldn't like, for example those that included excrements.

"Come in!" Sansa called.

The massive door opened with a creak, and Lord Lannister stepped into the room.

"No security?" he growled.

"Not anymore," Sansa peeped from underneath her blanket.

 

Lord Tywin uttered a nondescript sound and allowed his intense feline gaze to wander around. At once, Sansa blushed. She knew all too well that he was used to a better environment than she could offer him with her battered wooden second-hand bed with Tommen's old cat stickers on it, the open wire shelves instead of a cupboard, the sagging mattress, and the faded wallpapers. After his short inspection, Lord Lannister's look at her said more than anything he could have uttered with his mouth.

Sansa closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She wondered if he'd turn on his heels and leave her alone - and how relieved she'd be about such a development.

But no. Lord Tywin stepped closer and started to put off his clothes until he was down to his underwear. Sansa hid under her blanket.

 

"No working heating - I now understand why you're suddenly so ready to accept someone to keep you warm. Allow me?" she heard Lord Lannister's voice.

"Yes," she simply peeped and still wasn't sure she meant it. But she told herself she did and refused to think about the reasons.

The blanket moved and a second body slid between the sheets, causing the old mattress to sag even more. There was also some squeaking protest from the wooden bedframe. Sansa stiffened involuntarily - but to her surprise, Lord Lannister reacted the same way.

"You're naked!" he snapped, and it sounded like a complaint.

Confused, Sansa thought of Joffrey's porn movies and stuttered, "I... I'm sorry! Isn't that what it should be like if we...?"

"Pfft! You won't be of any use in the West if you catch a pneumonia in this cold."

Sansa blinked. This was in no way comparable to any film she'd seen.

"I... uh... my shift is over there on the chair near the lamp. I can put it on..."

Lord Lannister actually handed her the shift, and Sansa wriggled into it underneath the blanket. She still couldn't understand the lack of enthusiasm. The man at her side didn't behave like someone who was about to... to take her maidenhood. Just a moment later, she found out she was right with her assumption.

"Now, Lady Sansa. This has been a long night and the air in here is freezing. Let's just go to sleep."

Sansa blinked again. SLEEP? Had she understood him correctly? But if he didn't want to... why was he here? This man was a mystery.

"Are you sure? I mean - if you want to, my lord."

"Insecurity is for weaklings," Lord Lannister pointed out.

"Yes. Yes. Sure, my lord," Sansa hurried to agree. The man's relative physical proximity as well as his unexpected stance unsettled her more than she could say.

"All right then. Good night," Lord Tywin said, switched off the lamp, and turned his back to her, so Sansa had to align with his spine underneath the shared blanket. At least there was a second little pillow. Still, her face rested against his shoulder blades since there wasn't so much space, and thus, she felt his warmth and breathed in his scent. Pine soap and manliness. There was a weird tug in Sansa's stomach, and she couldn't find any peace for a long time - well until after Lord Lannister's breathing had deepened, thus indicating he'd fallen asleep.

 

The real shock came when she came awake again, because suddenly, two arms wrapped themselves around her in an iron clasp, a heavy body crushed her against it, a desperate mouth descended on hers, and something hard, hot and fleshy was between her thighs where the shift had slipped up.

Sansa was so overwhelmed she didn't know how to react.

A dark, drowsy voice groaned at her lips.

"Joanna!"

The cry of a badly wounded animal couldn't sound any different.

Sansa tensed even more. The same instant she realised what the exclamation implied, the hard flesh between her legs pushed into her body, and she squealed.


	5. Chapter 5

That was the wrong voice!

Tywin's eyes snapped open. He'd been having the most wonderful dream of fucking into Joanna's warm cunt on their wedding night. Now... the feminine body was still there and his cock truly buried in it... but everything else was wrong.

_Sansa Stark._

Memories popped up in his mind. Annoyment did, too. What in the name of -!? Heavens, what -!?

 

Sansa Stark was trembling and panting underneath him. At least she wasn't screaming or trying to fend him off.

"What is going on here?" Tywin snapped.

"I... I was sleeping. You've just... claimed me," Sansa managed to utter and licked her lips hectically.

"That's obvious," Tywin shot back. He hadn't actually mentioned Joanna's name, had he? After a second, he added, "Now what do you say? Underwhelming? It often is for a woman. During the first time."

Sansa Stark's eyes were huge, he could even make it out in this situation. Her voice was like crumpling paper when she spoke.

"How... how could THIS be underwhelming?"

Tywin snorted.

"Shall we go on then?"

He sounded sarcastic at best. To others, his words would probably appear scathing.

 

Sansa Stark's answer wasn't helpful.

"I... I don't know..."

Tywin's cock started to soften. Ever since Joanna's death he wasn't used to honesty in bed anymore. And what he was witnessing now was a lack of enthusiasm. Had she at least shown some sort of professional acceptance... but Sansa Stark wasn't a whore. Which was better in a way. In a manner of speaking. Even if it meant they woulnd't be continuing their activities just now.

 

Tywin slid out of her.

"You've had a first impression. Maybe that's enough for tonight. If you're sore, you may want to apply a salve. It's normal for the a woman's first time. It tends to get better with more experience after a while."

"I'm all right," Sansa Stark breathed. "I'm sorry if I'm disappointing."

Tywin bethought himself for a moment. WAS this woman disappointing? Normally, that was exactly what he should be thinking, considering that they hadn't finished the act.

"Seeing Joffrey's face tomorrow can hardly be disappointing, can it?" he offered in a semi-grumpy tone. "If you're fine, we can go back to sleep just as well."

Sansa Stark's voice was rife with doubts.

"If you think so..."

Tywin chose not to comment on her words, re-arranged his cock and his briefs and swore to himself he'd never wear something with a snap fastener again that could open accidentally at night. And besides, he knew that no subpar details of what had just happened were to reach any ear from his other family members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't quite contending...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first update after giving birth! :-)

There was another shock for Sansa when she opened her eyes again the next morning. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep after what had occurred, hadn't known what to make of it all.

So when she woke up, she wasn't prepared for the situation she was in: she was feeling... cosy. It took her a moment to recognise the feeling. It had become an alien sensation to her over the last years. Yet, there she was: warm and relaxed. Her limbs were intertwined with the limbs of someone else.

 _"Tywin Lannister,"_ she realised after a second.

Memories of the previous night hit her, causing her heartbeat to stutter and her complexion to change.

The Lannister patriarch was still asleep and nestled up flush against her. His face was leaning against the crook of her shoulder, and she could feel his warm, deep breath against her skin.

Whenever Sansa breathed in, she could smell his scent. She detected a whiff of spice soap and something that was... utterly him. And masculine. It set her stomach aflutter.

 _"What kind of foolishness is this?"_ she thought. _"This shouldn't be nice! Not with him!"_

Just at that moment, Lord Lannister rubbed his cheek against her and uttered a dark, contented growl - it only served Sansa's palpitations to increase.

 

Not knowing how to react, Sansa did... nothing. The warmth and strangely good feelings continued. Sansa felt torn about them - half enchanted, half guilty conscience. Besides, she knew all too well it was only a warped dream that wouldn't last. Not with a man like Tywin Lannister. Not ever. And she certainly shouldn't want it to last. Whatever "it" was to begin with.

 

It took Lord Lannister a while to wake up. Sansa glanced at Tommen's old animal clock on the faraway side of the wall as the first rays of daylight illuminated the room. It was about nine o'clock. Still quite early if you considered the New Year's festivities. Surely nobody else from the Lannister family was awake yet. However, for a 100% business man like Lord Tywin, it was probably uncharacteristically late. Sansa detected his fashionable mobile on her makeshift bedside table, and a hectic green flashing light indicated that yes, there was a lot going on on the device, asking for the lord's attention.

Sansa thought of her own cell phone, which she didn't use anymore. It was one of Myrcella's old mobiles, with glittering stag and lion stickers on it. The batteries were old, too, not lasting longer than two hours. And the worst of it was that Cersei had given it to Sansa to track her down wherever she went. Or to spy on her in other ways, too. Since her family contacts were blocked, there was nobody to communicate with anyway.

In contrast to that, Lord Lannister had ample reasons to use the latest and most expensive technology.

 _"He's claimed my virginity,"_ Sansa thought. _"Will he use his mobile to spread the news?"_

She knew all too well how Joffrey would have used all his social media accounts to sound off such an incident - and she also knew the tone of it all. Now... would Lord Lannister be any better? Granted, he likely wouldn't use the same vulgar language like his grandson, but otherwise...?

Sansa sighed inwardly.

 

"Hmmmm...," Lord Tywin murmured against her skin once more.

Then, his eyes started to open. So close was he that Sansa had a good view of the green orbs flecked with gold.

 _"So beautiful,"_ Sansa thought in that split second before the man became fully awake.

 

The next instant, Lord Lannister sat bolt upright.

"What time is it?" he wanted to know without preamble.

"And a very good morning," Sansa chirped. "It's about nine o'clock."

Lord Lannister hissed.

"He'll be close to ordering a security squad to save me," he murmured.

Sansa could only wonder who the man was referring to, and in which context.

 

Lord Lannister grabbed his phone, checked his calls and messages, and dialled a number.

"Kev, yes, I'm all right. You can seal the deal with the Skagosi. - - Yes, yes, I know. But the terms are still better than what the Braavosi have offered. - - Yes, sure. Oh, and by the way, I've got a new secretary to replace your pregnant one. I'll bring her along from King's Landing. - - Oh please, don't... - -  All right, yes. Sure, as I've told you, I'll bring her along. She does have to undergo some initial training, though. - - Well, it's Sansa Stark. That's why..."

At this point, there was a very emotional masculine voice to be heard coming from the phone. Sansa didn't mean to eavesdrop but could almost make out what the man was saying. Only her own, loud heartbeat stopped her from actually doing so.

All she could think was, _"It can't be! He's true to his word! Lord Lannister... he'll take me away from here! To the West!"_

Should she start to dare to hope now? Surely, everything could still go astray?

 _"Oh by the Seven! Please, please let it be true!"_ Sansa prayed.

Lord Lannister was the unlikeliest lover she could have chosen, and the realisation of the deed had been the weirdest possible one, but what did it matter as long as it meant she could finally leave the capital?


	7. Chapter 7

After finishing his call, Lord Lannister stretched for a moment like a real feline. Next, he turned to her, matter-of-fact expression on his face.

"So it's been settled. Pack your things. I'll go inform my family - whoever is already awake. Can't be many. We'll be leaving in an hour. I expect you to make it by that time."

Sansa nodded hastily. She looked at her scanty possessions.

"I only need five minutes to dress and five minutes for packing."

Lord Lannister lifted an eyebrow, clearly not used to such speed or enthusiasm from his own family.

"In that case you come with me. Might be easier and more effective to keep you at my side."

 

At these words, Sansa practically jumped into action. Forgotten was her embarrassment about her nakedness. She dashed through the room and grabbed her rucksack - the only vessel for her belongings as she didn't possess a trolley since the days when she'd fallen into the Lannisters' hands. Next, she put on some underwear, a pair of jeans, and a pullover. It really didn't take long to stuff her few other clothes and a handful of personal objects into the rucksack.

When she was ready, she turned around to face Lord Lannister and exclaimed, "Done!"

Well... Lord Lannister was sitting there, on the edge of her bed... and was still almost naked.

Sansa flushed pink at the sight and averted her eyes when the Lannister Patriarch stood up and growled, "True to your words. How refreshing."

He took hold of his own clothes and put them on with sure, swift movements. Next, he stuffed his mobile into a pocket inside his most elegant designer jacket. At this point, Sansa dared to look into his direction again.

"We'll be able to use my bath in Lannisport. I'm not particularly impressed of the chipped sink over there."

Lord Lannister pointed with his chin and Sansa blushed again.

 

Finally, they left her room together. It was no little anti-climax to find out that nobody was in the corridor. In the adjacent tract, they finally came across a bleary-eyed servant who had probably worked all night. The man had big ears and teeth and reminded Sansa of a rabbit. Lord Lannister asked him if anyone from the Lannister family had already risen. As a matter of fact, only Tommen was already up.

Lord Lannister waved his hand in a defensive way.

"I'll just leave a voice message for my children then."

Sansa was confused, and her entrails were aflutter. Would they just leave then? Without even facing the other members of the Lannister family? Would it be so incredibly easy?

 

Indeed, Lord Lannister took her by the elbow and steered her to the entrance. On the way, he called for his limousine via his mobile, and the dark, elegant vehicle was already waiting for them. The security men at the door gazed at them; they were sceptical about Sansa's leave, but the men knew better than to stop the Lannister patriarch. Just as he and Sansa crossed the pavement to sit down in the car, Tyrion Lannister tottered around the corner of the block, sporting a wild stubble, eyes as red as the one of a rabbit, and carrying a paper bag with fast-food breakfast. Obviously, the servant inside had been wrong: at least one more Lannister was already awake.

Tyrion stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, his eyes widened, and then, he came closer.

"Why, father, normally I'd just express my joy to see you leave - but what on earth is going on here with her?"

Lord Tywin's face was hard.

"I've noticed that Lady Sansa has got certain merits which have been lieing fallow so far, thanks to the incompetence of my offspring. So I'm taking her with me to Lannisport to make better use of her."

Tyrion blinked. "Merits?" He was clearly not in top shape after the New Year's festivities, intellectually speaking.

Lord Tywin snorted.

"Not surprised you wouldn't have noticed, not having any relevant ones yourself beyond drinking and whoring. Now, we're leaving. I'll send Cersei and Jaime a voice message."

Sansa winced at the harsh words and wondered if the topic of her having shared her bed with the lord would come up now. But no. Tywin Lannister was too refined a man to mention his own intimacies after just having condemned his son of whoring. Instead, he steered Sansa into the limousine. Since the windows were dark, she didn't have to contemplate whether to wave goodbye at the Imp or not. The next moment, Lord Tywin sat down next to her, closed the door shut himself, and addressed the driver.

"To the airport."

The man nodded, and the car started to move. Lord Tywin also spoke to Sansa.

"My private plane will be ready for us. We'll arrive in Lannisport in about three hours."

Sansa nodded shyly. She still couldn't believe it: she was leaving the capital!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it would have been interesting to have an extreme scandal, but really, after all the family's drinking I didn't think there would be many Lannisters awake.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for some awkwardness.

While they were walking up the gangway to Lord Lannister's private jet, he had another look at his mobile... and the angry green light was blinking hectically again.

Sansa dared to ask, "Your family is awake now?"

Lord Lannister shrugged.

"How do I know? My battery is low."

Then he continued to type something into his mobile, obviously ignoring what- or whoever was causing the green light to blink. Sansa blushed. She could also imagine how things had proceeded back in the capital: surely, Tyrion had informed his brother Jaime, who had woken up Cersei, and her reactions must have been loud enough to wake up the rest of the household, including Joffrey. It was good that Sansa was already far enough away to get stopped by the family branch residing in the capital.

 

As it was, Sansa felt a weird mix of relaxation and excitement when she sat down in her seat and fastened her seatbelt. Lord Lannister was generous and left her the place at the window while he sat down right next to her. Sansa smelled the scent of some sort of aftershave or perfume he must have applied in the bathroom of the airport where he had refreshed himself. The masculine fragrance caused Sansa's heartbeat to accelerate and reminded her of what had transpired at night.

In her opinion, there was quite a bit that was unsettled between them. Granted, technically, she had given Lord Lannister her virginity and he had kept his end of the deal. But what now? The... incident itself had surely been far from the experience that could be expected. He couldn't be contented, could he? Apart from that - he was still a Lannister. THE Lannister. Cold and calculating and not to be trusted. Ruthless and even cruel if need be. So how did things stand between them?

 

When the plane was in the air, Lord Lannister opened a convertible netbook, analysed some charts and prepared some e-mails. Sansa, however, didn't know what to do as she hadn't brought along anything to while away the time. Lord Tywin noticed it after a few minutes. He opened a slender, black leather case and extracted an e-book reader.

"Here. Most of the texts are economy papers, but there are also some classical novels installed."  
Sansa's eyes widened.

"Why - thank you!" she exclaimed. Then, she cast down her eyes and blushed. "By the way... if I may ask... will we meet often at the Rock?"

Green-golden eyes gazed at her. Assessed her.

"In times of online conferences, I don't have to travel as much as you might think. Besides, my nephew Lancel does some of the traveling since he's moved back from the capital to Lannisport. So our ways are bound to cross regularly."

Sansa nodded hesitantly. She breathed in and out.

"And... with regard to the... intimacies we've shared..."

She faltered, not knowing exactly how to go on. Lord Lannister's already intense looks became even more piercing.

"There's little fascination in a woman's lack of enthusiasm for me."

Sansa looked away and scratched her arm.

"Would you want to try to inspire some enthusiasm?"

Tywin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Let's be frank. You offered yourself so I'd take you with me, so you could leave King's Landing. And that's all there is to it. I'm a Lannister, I've got a certain reputation and a certain age. Apart from money and influence, what could possibly be attractive for you?"

Sansa felt pretty much caught, her own previous thoughts not having been so very far off.

"At least you smell good."

The sentence was out before she could even think of what to answer.

 

Lord Lannister blinked, and Sansa looked adamantly at her feet. She didn't even want to guess just how flushed her face had to be now.

"Your expactations must be really low if an acceptable level of cleanliness is such a relevant criterion for you."

Sansa didn't know what to say to that, so she quickly changed the topic and pointed at the charts on the lord's screen.

"Is this about your job?"

There was a snort next to her.

"All I do is about my profession. My wealth. My power. And all of this is for the good of my family. I thought that this would go without saying."

Sansa felt incredibly stupid.

"Yes. Of course. So... I better don't distract you any further and find out what the e-book reader has on offer."

Lord Tywin inclined his head to show his acceptance. So Sansa switched on the device, but soon realised she couldn't concentrate, not even when she found the story of Florian and Jonquil in it, her favourite. So she pretended to be dozing off and let her thoughts wander.

 

Finally, the flight was coming to an end. Fascinated, Sansa watched the shoreline of the West from above and was impressed when she got a first glance at Lannisport and Casterly Rock. It still looked small from this position, but this impression would change soon. Mere minutes later, the pilot brought the plane down in a soft landing. When Lord Lannister and Sansa crossed the international zone, they passed a duty free shop. Lord Lannister pointed at the corner with the perfumes.

"See that eau de toilette in the bolt-shaped vial? 'Effectivity'. That's what I'm using. So now you know what you've been smelling."

At once, Sansa's cheeks started to glow again, and she looked at her feet.

"I see," she muttered and followed Lord Lannister to the exit.

The family patriarch looked about himself.

"Now where is Kevan?" he grumbled, and Sansa wondered if her embarrassment would finally abate in the presence of the lord's brother.

 _"Probably not,"_ she thought. _"How can I keep a straight face knowing about last night?"_

Only there was nothing she could do about it, so she readied herself for the inevitable.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for Kevan to enter the story? ;-)

Kevan turned out to be a man who was as portly as Tywin was slender - but he had the same air of Lannisterishness about himself like his brother, although he looked at least a tad less arrogant. That was Sansa's first impression. In fact, Kevan Lannister darted into their direction like a pinball in an old-fashioned computer game while avoiding other airport travellers. He was gesturing wildly, and he had a faint sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Brother! What do you think you're doing?" he asked and sounded utterly bewildered.

"And a very happy New Year to you as well," Tywin Lannister answered in a sarcastic tone while arching an eyebrow.

Kevan didn't react to him.

"What has gotten into your head? Why didn't you answer Cersei's calls? Don't you know what's going on in King's Landing now?"

Lord Lannister snorted.

"Of course I know. That's the very reason why I haven't been answering."

Kevan palmed his face.

"All right, all right. Though... nothing is all right. Anyway, let's get out of here for a private talk. The car is waiting."

Lord Lannister nodded.

"Oh, and this is Lady Sansa, your new secretary."

Dutifully, Sansa held out her hand and peeped, "Good afternoon, sir. And happy New Year."

Kevan paused and looked at the hand like a dog who didn't know what to do with a new toy rubber duck on the floor. Then, he took the offered hand gingerly.

"My pleasure," he murmured, then indicated the direction they should take with his head. "And yes, happy New Year. Now off we go."

"You'll show her around later?" Lord Lannister insisted.

Kevan rubbed his bearded face nervously.

"Of course, of course. And now let's go."

 

When they were all seated in the limousine waiting for them - Sansa behind the two men - Kevan breathed in and out and spoke up again.

"Really, Ty, I know you're always good for surprises, but this is a truly... unforeseen move if you ask me."

Lord Lannister shrugged.

"It's the nature of surprises that they're not predictable."

Kevan sighed.

"Oh please, Ty, I can do without such comments."

Lord Lannister looked at him then.

"What do you want, Kev? Aren't you in need of a replacement for your pregnant secretary? See, I've got you one. Lady Sansa was sitting around in the capital, doing nothing because our family didn't care to give her a useful task. That way, she only cost them. Food, accomodation and so on. So I took things into my hands - and since everyone was too drunk there was no use in trying to converse with Cersei and the others. Would only have led to some ugly situations besides."

Kevan shook his head, eyes still big.

"Sure I can need a new secretary, and I know what your daughter is like, but this is still so unexpected. It's not like you, somehow. I mean - I couldn't have been more surprised if you had slept -" He broke off, his pupils dilating even more. "Ty, you haven't spent the night with her, have you?"

At once, Sansa looked at her feet, and her cheeks felt like furnaces within seconds.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the end now... I know it's quite abrupt, but I want to get to my other WiPs again, so please forgive me.

The ensuing awkward silence was deafening in Sansa's ears, and she didn't dare to look at the men in the car. She would have liked to shut her ears, too.

"Brother, tell me you haven't done this!"

"Kev, don't behave like a shriveled septa! It's not as if we were still in the Middle Ages, and the fineries of this matter are none of your business."

"Wrong! If you intend to make her my secretary, I want to know where I stand. How the land lies between the two of you. Do you intend to go on with this... this... affair?"

That was a good question. A question Sansa didn't want to have an answer to right then. So she couldn't stay quiet anymore, though her voice was too quavering for her taste.

"Please sir! Don't think badly of your brother. He has treated me decently, and that's all there is to say."

 

For a moment, she could hear nothing else but the heavy breathing from where Kevan Lannister sat. Then, the man spoke.

"Forgive me, but I must confess this is all a bit difficult for me to grasp, my lady. I'm not used to... to my brother having... dalliances."

Lord Lannister snorted at that.

"You really do sound like a septa now, Kev. I'm a grown man, and I know what I'm doing."

 

From the corner of her eyes, Sansa could see Kevan rub his face.

"Of course you are, it's just... I don't want a blemish on our family enterprise. And I don't want you to suffer."

"In that very order?" Lord Lannister asked in a dry voice.

"Ty!" Kevan exclaimed and rubbed his face again. "It's a new year, and you're really unnverving."

"Being unnerving is my default setting, Kev, just you ask the rest of the family. Now. You take Lady Sansa and show her around when we arrive. With regard to accomodation... find her a guest suite for the time being. One that is close enough so we - you - can call on her at all times."

Kevan's voice sounded a bit resigned after these words.

"Of course, brother."

 

After that, Lord Lannister steered their conversation to pressing business matters, and Sansa remained silent. She didn't understand a thing, but listened to what was said all the same. She had to learn, and fast, if she meant to stay Kevan Lannister's secretary. A short while later, they arrived at Casterly Rock. Sansa was impressed by the architecture, the entrance that looked like a lion's maw, the beautiful site overlooking the city and the sea... She had known Winterfell and the Red Keep, but this here was a building of unique beauty. It was a place she could come to love.

 

Lord Lannister left the limousine after her, so she turned around to face him.

"Thank you," she said.

Tywin cocked his head, placed his hand under her chin, and commented,"There's something rotten in the state of Asshai when a Stark thanks me from the bottom of her heart. But who am I to criticise gratefulness? So. Happy New Year - and may this be an acceptable new home."

Sansa looked into the eyes of the man who'd claimed her maidenhood, and despite the man's everlasting seriousness, her heart fluttered in a strange way. Lord Tywin's gaze became even more intense... and somehow warmer. It was then that she instictively sensed that yes, this was not only a new year. In the strangest and most unfoeseen possible way, it was a beginning of something more and very different. And maybe - if she squinted - there was probably even a faint glimmer of happiness on the horizon.

Sansa smiled.

_"I'll fight for this beginning."_

Lord Lannister indicated a tiny nod. No words were necessary. A Stark and a Lannister - who would have ever thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to write a sequel, feel free to do so! The more, the merrier! :-)


End file.
